


Satellite Skin

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Androids, Future Fic, M/M, Other, Robot Sex, Robots, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:37:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick gets a Companion Bot for his birthday and it's an exact replica of Pete Wentz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [camatie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/camatie/gifts).



> This fic is over 2 years old and I finally finished it.  
> I apologise if it feels like there are loose ends, I'll probably write more in this AU some other time perhaps. It was partially posted on my livejournal and mibba account under a different title (this one's taken from the Modest Mouse song of the same name), however this feels more fitting...without further ado: enjoy!

Patrick Stump was a fairly wealthy young man, who went to a private school, and had a nice enough home life. So perhaps, he was a little bit of a geek for 20th century music and movies (Stars Wars is still fun even if it's two centuries later), and he kind of had no friends. He had a couple, but apparently not enough for his mom to not buy him a companion bot for his birthday.

"It'll be like a tutor."

"For what?" Patrick was doing Above Average in all of his classes.

"Music." Patrick has to mentally scoff, he'd do better teaching a robot than being taught in that field. Outwardly, Patrick sighs and looks back to his mom.

"Where is it?" His mother smiled before answering.

"Your room, I sent him up to tidy things...he has quite a few functions."

"He?" Patrick asked, his mother nodded.

"Well..I know you like all that old music, the..screamo? I was looking around and someone was selling a replica-bot of one of those singers you liked and, well....It was pretty cheap, and they did all the reprogramming themselves."

Patrick nodded slowly, half turned to the lifter pad, ready to head to the upper level. He stepped onto the pad and his mother started walking away before he spoke up, "Which...which singer?"

His mother waved a hand, "One of them, I'm not sure..I just know you mentioned the band before; Armando Las Angeles, or something."

Patrick taps the pad with his foot and it begins to raise, and he tries to think of what band his mother was talking about. He stepped off on the second floor and watched monotonously as his door slid open when it recognised his presence. Walking in and setting his laptop bag down, he didn't notice the thing sitting very still on his bed. When Patrick turned around and gasped loudly out of shock, the robot just smiled and spoke.

"Hey dude, my name's Pete. Your mom's a nice lady. Her name is Patricia."

Patrick stood all his five feet almost four inches and stared at the thing on his bed. It looked nothing like any of the generic androids he was used to seeing advertised, which was a relief. Patrick really did want to call it a person, it looked just like the real thing, sounded like it too. Whoever had ordered him must have spent a lot of money on it. Tanned snythoskin, dark almost curly hair slightly longer than what Patrick remembers of his pictures, a couple tattoos. Very custom, and it seemed odd that someone would sell it. 

"How old are you? I'm only 2, even though I'm built to look 21." The bot grinned widely, exposing perfect white teeth, it seemed almost amused at being a two year old model of something that was being reproduced a new version each week.

"Sixteen," Patrick responded, " but my birthday's coming up." 

"I love birthdays. I love balloons, and music, and clowns. Do you like those things?"

"Uhh..."

"I alphabetized your music collection and reorganised your clothing by color and made your bed and did you know you had a sock under your bed, it was very dirty, you're flushed are you feeling well?"

"Pete..." Patrick said cautiously.

"That's my name, don't wear it out. Did you know I was made after this guy from a band? I can sing just like him, it's cool wanna hear?"

"Do you- can you just shut up?" Patrick managed to say, a little too loudly, but hopefully Pete heard it over his own voice.

"Sorry, Master Patrick." Patrick blushed, opening and closing his mouth without words, feeling like a fish, so he stopped. Pete had shut up, that was the important part. He took his laptop out of it's case and set it on his desk, preparing to do the assignments he hadn't finished in class.

"Homework?" Pete asked and Patrick looked at him as he kicked his dangling legs against the bed. Pete was shorter than Patrick had expected. Patrick just nodded in his direction, he doesn't see how Pete's eyes glow for a moment, scanning the laptop. "Your computer has a Trojan, and the answers to your math homework are 1.222844, the constraints and the profit function, f(x) = 1/x, undefined variables, x equals 3, 45, and negative 8."

"That's cheating." Patrick says, watching the voice command of his laptop kick in and fill out his homework before he can stop it. Pete just shrugs happily.

"You have a nice guitar." 

"Thanks..." Patrick responds, pretending to be checking if Pete's answers were right, they are.

"I tuned it for you."

"YOU TOUCHED BETSY?" Patrick is officially angry with this bot, and does not blame it's previous owner for getting rid of it.

"Sorry, Master Patrick."

"Hey, don't..j-just..like..Just Patrick, okay?" 

"Okay." There was quiet while Patrick checked his messages, nothing but spam. "Episode IV was my favorite."

"What?" Patrick asked turning towards Pete.

"A New Hope...Star Wars." Patrick's eyes lit up at that, none of the weird scanning electronics lighting though, just the regular emotional response type.

"Episode V was so better though." Patrick responded smiling slightly, Pete smiled back and accessed his files on opinions and debate. 

They argued the qualities of Han Solo, and how Princess Leia's dresses got shorter before moving onto the subject of the late 1990's Chicago Hardcore Scene. By the time they were sharing favorite Bowie songs, night had fallen and it was late enough that Patrick's mother interrupted them and called bedtime.

"Mom, I'm almost 17...bedtime, really? Where's Pete gonna stay?"

"Yes, really. I'm sure he can just go on standby and stand in the corner or something right?" 

That sounded odd to Patrick after the conversation he and Pete had shared. Pete however just replied politely, saying that'd work fine, and Patrick's mom left for her own room. Pete stood from the bed for the first time since Patrick had seen him and asked which corner Patrick wanted him in.

"Uhh...whichever you want?" Pete chose the one on the far side of the room, near the closet hutch. And stood there, eyes open, not blinking. Patrick tried not to let his skin crawl as he got changed for bed, he couldn't help feeling he was being watched, though Pete had gone on standby.

"You're...You're not really on right now right?" Patrick asked, feeling paranoid in the quiet before slipping a shirt over his head and pulling the perfectly made covers back from his bed.

"I was running updates still."

"Oh." Patrick blushed again, Pete had seen him mostly naked, great.

"You're self conscious about your body?" Patrick responded back with a quiet 'yes'. "That's not cool dude, you aren't ugly. I'd even say you were cute."

Patrick pondered Pete's overuse of the word 'dude' and tried to bury his face further into his pillow so Pete wouldn't see how red he was after being called 'cute'.

"Goodnight, Mas- Patrick." Patrick mumbled something back, and let himself drift off, thinking about it being his birthday tomorrow, and sleeping in.


	2. Chapter 2

Patrick wakes up around three hours later, the sun still not up. He grumbled as he a cracked a sleep infested eye open to see Pete, sitting in his computer chair and watching the projector play some stupid late night game show. It was on mute, or close to it anyway, but the lights were flickering rampantly and Pete had apparently just cheered too loudly for someone.

Pete's head snapped quickly to where Patrick was sitting up, and just that fast the tv was off, as if Patrick would assume he hadn't seen him watching 30 Seconds To Mars (The game show, not the classic rock group). "Pete?"

Patrick doesn't hear a response, just his sleepy voice echoing inside his head. Patrick just laid back down and pretended he was convinced nothing happened.

_______

 

Patrick's internal clock tells him he could still sleep a few more hours, but the bright sun and loud music make him decide otherwise. Pete was sitting in his computer chair again, blasting 5o4 Plan, he also had a cord attached to the laptop, that seemed to also be connected to his wrist.

"Good Morning. I'm charging."

Patrick blinked slowly, trying to let this make sense, "Why do you keep touching my things?"

"You haven't told me not to." Pete replied, tapping his foot along in perfect time with the song. "I got bored and made breakfast, by the way. It's on the lower level and it should still be warm, Mom left for work."

"Mom." Patrick deadpans.

"Patricia told me to call her that, do you mind?" Patrick just blinked again slowly before heading to the kitchen.

_______

 

"You know, for a robot...you don't seem very...roboty." Patrick said suddenly, making Pete look up from where he was reading one of Patrick's vintage paper made books. 

"What would make me more...'roboty' to you, Patrick?"

"Are you like...really strong or..I mean okay the math you did yesterday was pretty cool and all, but... I don't know you just seem really...human."

"It's because I'm not one of the 'clones'." Pete replied, a mechanical shudder went through his spine.

"You mean..because you're not a iJane or iJohn Bot? I get that...I'm kind of really happy you aren't..."

"They're terrible, they don't even realise they're all wearing the same outfit." Pete laughed at his joke, a loud obnoxious noise. Patrick wondered if that could be fixed, and then he laughed slightly too. He hadn't really taken in Pete's clothing, it was simple enough. A black shirt and a pair of blue jeans, and Converse that looked like they might not be the knock offs the fashion industry were trying to bring back into style.

"Yeah...You know, you seem to have a lot of personality...how-?"

"The person that ordered me, they were very strange from what's left in my memory about them. I was made as an exact replica, the person said they'd time traveled just to make me right."

Patrick's eye widened at this, "Time traveled? That costs...a-and two years ago it was even more dangerous than now."

"I told you the person was weird."

"Why'd they get rid of you?" 

Pete had a pained expression come across his features, a brief humming noise filled the room, "Those files are long gone dude, sorry." Pete paused shortly before blurting out, "Wanna see my tattoos?"

"I-what?" Patrick asked really hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. Pete just grinned and stood up, pulling his shirt off uninhibited. He twisted around trying to both see and point to a strange symbol at his lower back. Patrick had to laugh slightly, "What is that supposed to be?"

"I don't know, isn't it great?" Pete said grinning, he walked over and sat next to Patrick on his bed. "I like this one too." Pete said pointing to one of his wrists, "I wish I had more."

Pete sat quietly, and started to kick his legs against the bed. Patrick couldn't really help himself from reaching out and tracing over the small inked in design on Pete's wrist. It was raised like a tattoo should be, it was printed on he could tell. Patrick was slightly surprised however at how warm the imitation skin felt. He didn't notice Pete shift into him, barely noted Pete's head leaning on his shoulder. He did however jump slightly at how close Pete's low and slightly scratchy voice his his ears.

"That feels nice." For some reason it sent chills down Patrick's spine, so he retracted his hand. Pete stood up and had his shirt on faster than Patrick would have blinked. He wanted to apologise or even ask if he did anything wrong, but then Patrick's mom was at his door. Telling him that she overhead someone talking about an old theater that had been restored and fixed up, and how they were letting retro bands play there on the weekend, maybe he should go and take Pete.

"That sounds great mom." Patricia looked over at Pete, who's head was buried in Patrick's closet pretending to re-reorganise something. His mother crossed the room and leaned in to speak to Patrick.

"You like Pete enough right? You get along?"

"Yeah, mom...he's cool..thanks." She smiled and wrapped an arm around him in a half hug, kissing his ear with a loud smack.

"You know, you can take him with you to school and show him off if you want." She bumped her shoulder into his.

"Uhm....maybe." It didn't really sound like too much of a good idea, he didn't need to give the kids a reason to start making fun of him again. Patrick's mom smiled and awkwardly patted Pete on the head before she left.

"Do I get to go to school with you?" Pete asked, sitting back down on the bed, shirt-on this time of course.

"You really..do you really want to?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Not really..but like, if you want-"

"It's not about what I want, I'm programmed to make you happy." It's said without an air of upset, a slight inflection of pride even.

"Well, " Patrick said slowly, "I want you to...if you want you to." Patrick watched as Pete blinked several times in quick succession.

"Yes?" Pete said, eyebrows creased.

"Okay then..sure you can come." Patrick said in a rush (okay, so maybe Patrick really wanted an excuse to show Pete off to everyone). Pete laid his arm across Patrick's lap.

"Do you want to touch me again? I don't mind it." Patrick flushed deeply, staring at the tan and warm weighted arm in his lap. He didn't really answer, just lifted a hand to trail it lightly across the skin. Tickling Pete's palm, making him burst out with his annoying laughter, it just made Patrick smile.

They sat pressed together for a good chunk of an hour, eventually striking a conversation about body modifications and musing whether or not androids could get them, 'like upgrades!' Pete had pointed out. Patrick didn't ever stop touching Pete's arm, he wasn't sure why completely, the part he'd figured out he tried not to think about. He just focused on how Pete would sigh against his shoulder or giggle depending on how or where on Pete's arm he touched, he even tried pinching him. Pete gasped loudly.

"Sorry..sorry, I didn't know if-..I should have asked."

"It's okay, physical pain, no mater how intense, is only temporary...if I wanted i could wipe the sensation from my mind and not even remember it."

"Whoa...are you going to?" Patrick asked, absentmindedly tracing patterns on Pete's forearm.

"I don't think so....I should probably go see if Mom wants help with dinner, if that's okay?" Patrick nodded, though in their position Pete probably didn't see, and reluctantly let Pete stand and leave the room. Patrick thought his mom probably told whomever she bought Pete from to make him want to help her out around the house. He rolled his eyes and went to play Betsy.


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick sat quietly, strumming along the strings of his guitar, striking a mellow G chord. When music all went digital people were worried about what might happen to the scene. But the thing is, even when they developed holographic instruments, and super sonic sound quality, they didn't kill rock'n'roll. No matter what the music industry did, there was no bass-tone computer program that could cancel out the feel, the hum the sound of a six string acoustic guitar.

They were made from synthetic wood compound now, and recycled aluminum and copper for strings and components. It's still real, something to hold and feel the music ghost through. Betsy, Patrick's acoustic, was possibly his most prized possession. He started picking out this Saves the Day song he'd most recently taught himself by ear. He couldn't help tapping his foot along, couldn't really help singing the words along.

He played through most of it before hitting a bad chord he kept forgetting about, and setting his guitar aside. Looking up he saw an awestruck Pete standing near his door. Patrick's eyes shifted around, trying to focus on anything but the fact that someone had heard him singing.

"Angels." Pete blurted out.

"What?" Patrick countered, still not looking at him, instead adjusting his hat. It was a trucker hat with some logo for some team or business he'd never like. It was deep blue though, and he liked it. 

"It was like, the room was filled with angels." Patrick snorted loudly in response. "No, okay...so my metaphor need some work, but you...you should be in a band or something."

Patrick just scoffs a little quietly at that. He'd thought about it, but the only bands kids wanted in these days were Holopop or Holocore...no one understood what a real instrument meant anymore. Pete looks sheepish, and he straightens the birthday cards Patrick had received from distant family members, that his mom made him display on a shelf.

"I recorded it, if that's okay?" Pete finally asked.

"You..recorded..me?" Pete nodded and walked over to Patrick's laptop, pulling a usb attachment he'd used for charging out of his wrist. Patrick errantly thought that it wasn't the same wrist he'd touched earlier. "May I?" Pete added gesturing to the computer, Patrick nodded curiously.

Pete connected himself to the laptop's port, his eyes momentarily flashed green. Patrick averted his eyes again, finding it too strange. It was quiet but for some clicking noises of the keys, and then Patrick heard himself and a guitar playing back. 

Patrick leaned over and watched the media player on his laptop's equalizer pulse up and down in time with the rise and fall of his voice. Pete had captured most of it, in fairly good quality. Pete was standing there smiling. He leaned over and opened up something, he was opening up himself Patrick realised, his own files on Patrick's laptop. For a moment Patrick wished he could have the ability. 

Pete clicked on a folder marked Patrick, and in turn there were more folders; Videos: 1, Pictures: 13, Documents: 3, Sound Files: 11. Pete looked to Patrick while explaining, "Things I store so I can remember your likes and dislikes, like this." 

Pete clicked on a document, and it was an exact transcript of the conversation they'd had yesterday. "It's like....these files are my memories."

Patrick couldn't help himself as clicked on the pictures, before Pete could stop him. There were only 13 pictures, but they were great quality. Two were copies of Patrick looking towards the floor, cheeks ablaze. He felt them heating up in real time. Pete disconnected quickly, as though he were afraid Patrick might find something else or even ashamed for having those saved.

"Why..?" Patrick made to ask, trying to think of a good way to phrase that.

"I told you, you're cute." Pete answered honestly, watching the chord automatically retract into his wrist before he pushes the flesh toned cover back over it, to hide it. Patrick made to change the subject.

"Were you watching tv last night?" Pete grimaced and nodded.

"I was hoping you'd forget...you're a fairly heavy sleeper."

"Shouldn't you have been on 'standby' or whatever?"

Pete shrugged, "I have troubles accessing it anyway."

"Oh, I'm sure my mom could get that looked at if you want?"

"No, I don't really like standby anyway...I mean, I can charge just as easily without it."

"Why don't you like it?" Pete hesitated, as though he didn't want to say. But he belonged to Patrick, Patrick got the say in what he did. If he asks something, Pete answers, it's only right.

"My dream sequence is...The way I was made, I have...Well, you'd relate it to nightmares."

"Oh...I hate those." Patrick replied, not sure what else to say. Pete looked suddenly alert.

"You should come with me, Mom's finished your surprise desert and dinner is ready." 

Patrick perked up at this, "Surprise desert? Pumpkin squares?"

Pete nodded, looking slightly disgruntled, "I wasn't supposed to tell you."

Patrick laughed, Pete didn't need to tell Patrick that one of his saved sound files was Patrick's laugh. "It's okay dude....let's go."

______

They headed the lower level and Patrick's mom immediately covered Patrick's eyes with her hands, an odd chorus of 'Happy Birthday' ensued. And Pete, for having been a lead singer, was really off key. When they finished and Patrick's mom let him open his eyes, sure enough there was a pan of Pumpkin Squares with mini LED mock-candles stuck in them.

Patrick thanked his mom as she went to get the main course, veggie lasagna, and he sat down. Pete sat next to him at the relatively small rectangle table, it could hold hold more than it looked, it extended though Patrick and his mother have never needed it's ability to.

"Hey do you..eat?" Pete laughed his loud bray at Patrick's question, Patrick heard his mother's laugh from the kitchen, amused at Pete's amusement.

"Of course not....I mean, I could. I have the ability to masticate and pass food through an acutely replicated digestive system. But it's really just wasteful, and weird."

"Right..Can you like, taste though?"

"Probably...I was built with all five senses. I'm surprised you haven't asked if I'm anatomically correct." Patrick laughed awkwardly and reached to sip the water his mother had set out for the meal. There was a short lull as his mom walked in and set the hot pan of food down. "I am."

Patrick choked slightly on the water, Pete immediately reaching to pat his back. Patrick's mother just sat down opposite them smiling. "You are what, Pete?"

Pete looked quickly to Patrick, far too quickly for Patricia to see. Long enough for Pete to note the slight panic in Patrick's eyes and the redness that coated him to the tips of his ears. "A good singer, Patrick said I sucked."

"Patrick be nice." His mom said with a mock sternness, dishing out plates of food. Patrick just nodded and forked food into his mouth so he didn't have to speak. Had Pete just lied? Are androids even aloud to do that?

The rest of the dinner and desert was filled with politely joking conversation, at some point tapering off into a debate on whether or not Pop Punk should have the word Punk in it. Patrick's mom just nodded along quietly, not quite getting it, but still happy Patrick finally had someone that did. 

Eventually, Pete and Patrick headed back to Patrick's room. Pete offering to stay and help clean up, but Patricia waved him on to 'go play with Patrick'. 

_____

Back in his room, Patrick felt fairly tired from the day at hand, and slightly food sleepy. So he laid back on his bed, getting comfortable.. Pete stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure if he should sit in the computer chair or just stand, "You can sit here if you want, there's room."

Pete took the invitation and sat halfway down the bed, "Did you have a nice birthday?"

"I guess." Patrick replied, eyes closed to the ceiling.

"I was your present right?" Pete asked. Patrick opened an eye and looked to Pete.

"Yeah..I guess you were." Patrick suddenly felt uncomfortable and sat up, sitting behind and slightly off the the side of Pete. Pete smiled slightly.

"Good present?"

Patrick smiled back, "Well...you didn't even have a bow on you. How can you be a good present without a bow?" 

"You don't even have a hat on, how can you be a good Patrick when you're not even wearing a hat?" Pete countered, Patrick reached up finding that his hat had slipped off when he'd laid down. 

"I guess I'm not then....Hey, Pete?"

"Hey, Patrick." 

Patrick rolled his eyes lightly. "You...you lied to my mom earlier." 

Pete suddenly looked worried, "Should I not have? It seemed that you didn't want her to know what I'd said."

"Yeah, no! I...I didn't really want her to know, it's be a little weird I think."

"It was weird that I said that? I was just joking around." Pete's gaze dropped to the floor.

"Yeah, it was fine, I just..my mom might not have..found it funny or- Just...I don't know." Patrick felt weird sitting up this time, and laid back again, pushing his hat out of the way. Pete lifted his feet onto the mattress and reclined as well, grinning at Patrick. Patrick couldn't help smiling back at Pete he'd noticed, he even laughed slightly at the action.

"Are you, are you copying me?"

"Are you copying me?" Pete countered. Patrick just shook his head and asked Pete about Arma Angelus. Pete went off telling him all he'd been programmed knowing and it grew later. Pete was in the middle of telling one of his favorite stories that had come with the band's file when he noticed Patrick's breathing evening out. 

Patrick looked sweet and soft and happy. Pete couldn't help but take the moment to lean over and press his lips lightly to Patrick's cheek. There was a spark, a literal one, static electricity. Patrick's eyes flicked open to see Pete close up, still hovering over him.

"Sorry." Pete muttered, and before Patrick could say anything he was across the room, powering down into his disliked standby. Patrick just brushed his fingers across his cheek, feeling for the tiny lightening strike that wasn't there before getting ready for bed and turning out his lights. It was almost an hour earlier than his mom would have told him to sleep, but though he lay in bed, feeling all the sleepiness had been washed away.

Patrick lay there and tried to turn his brain off, he wished he could go on standby so easily. Wishes sometimes come true though, because in mid-thought of going over what happened with Pete, he drifted into an uneasy sleep. Dreaming here and there of files and numbers and sparks of electricity.


	4. Chapter 4

Patrick wakes up later than he'd mean to. Pete's not around, so he quickly dresses and grabs his things before heading to see if his mom is still around to take him to school. She asks if he wants breakfast, that Pete must have been up before dawn to make it. Pete is in the kitchen, staring at everything but Patrick's direction. Patrick shakes his head politely and heads to the car. 

"Weren't you going to take Pete?" His mother asks. Patrick stays quiet and shakes his head, "You sure?" she asks.

"School banned electronics, I'm sure he counts." The school only banned communicators, they never said anything about androids. Patrick's mom needn't know the difference, she just smiled slightly and started the car.

_____

School felt like hell, as usual. Classes, lunch, classes, band practice. He liked the last bit, he was in jazz band, drummer. They made him use these electronic plastic tap kits though, it dulled the fun a bit. No one talked to him, the teacher included apart from a few nods in his direction of approval or whatever it may represent.

He caught the tram home. Pete was in the living room with his mom, Patrick forgot she gets off early on Mondays. She's having tea and Pete's talking animatedly, he even smiles and gestures Patrick to come sit with them. Playing dumb now apparently instead of avoidance, Patrick can work with that.

"I gave Pete directions to that theater I told you about, he looked up some information and they're having a show this weekend, on Saturday." 

"There's gonna be a Ramones cover band and two local bands. One of them sounds pretty bad, but the other one has a really cool name: Carousel Mind." Pete looks like he's humming with excitement, and if Patrick thinks about it he probably is.

The week slid by, Pete would casually try to converse here and there with Patrick but mostly let him alone. It was almost as if Pete didn't remember what he did, but Patrick was okay with that. maybe he erased the memory for all Patrick could care ( or that's what he told himself). School came and went, and Pete even got Patrick to sit and play his something on his guitar. It was just a short thing he'd been working on and there were no words, but Pete said he'd recorded it anyway. Patrick was starting to wonder how much memory Pete had to keep files on him.

Friday night rolled around quicker than you could spell 'sesquipedalian' (one who uses big words). Pete was charging again, flicking through his files and Patrick had been absentmindedly strumming his guitar and waiting for something interesting to happen. 

"So, do you want to go to the show tomorrow?" Pete asked, downsizing whatever he had been looking at.

"I don't know." Patrick replied, not really thinking about his reply as much as the feeling of strings sliding across the callousing pads of his fingers.

"Oh, it'd be fun to go. I wanna try crowd surfing." 

Patrick mentally laughed at the idea of Pete trying to crowd surf, and he figured he might as well. He'd wanted to see a live show before, he'd just never really had an offer to go to one where he wouldn't stand lonely in a corner.

"I guess, we could go...mom wants me out of the house, so it'd make her happy." 

Pete beamed so brightly Patrick's face momentarily got set on fire, even more so when Pete replied, "It's a date!" and went back to whatever he was doing.

Patrick accidentally started playing First Date by Blink-182 and really tried not to think about it. Pete said he was cute, twice, but he's programmed to like Patrick. Besides, the rules about human to robot relationships are pretty strict. No one underage, nothing more than physical relationships. People are still trying to get it legalized like gay marriage, but it's not so often that robots and humans fall in 'love'. Patrick doesn't believe in love too much, especially not with sentient androids that can be programmed just as easily to kill their lovers. 

So basically, Patrick ignores whatever weird thoughts he has about Pete. He focuses on maybe what he'll wear tomorrow night, which hat would look nice with which outfit, if he should shower now or tomorrow before the show or if he should bother showing at all. Pete ends up saying that it was getting late, it was almost 12am. 

Patrick nodded in agreement and put his guitar away, trying not to wonder if Pete was looking when he changed for bed. Pete was standing in his chosen corner, looking forlorn, so Patrick said, "I don't mind if you want to watch tv...or mess around on my computer, if you don't want to go on standby."

Pete said something that sounded like 'okay cool', but he ended up running standby anyway from the looks of it.

______

Patrick woke up sometime in the early after or late morning, he wasn't sure, all he was aware of was his clothing flying into his face. And upon further inspection Pete standing at his closet, wearing nothing but boxers, repeatedly trying on his shirts before throwing them off again.

Patrick sat up sleepily yawning and rubbing his eyes, "Pete, what're you doing?"

Pete turned around with one of Patrick's favorite shirts pulled halfway down his torso and an expression thoroughly appropriate for the situation. Pete starts to explain several times until Patrick burrows back into his warm covers, discreetly not looking at Pete.

"If you want to borrow something why didn't you ask?" Pete shrugged and pulled the shirt off, bending over and picking up the others that he'd tossed to the ground. Patrick closed his eyes and also didn't look at Pete's ass that was permanently sticking up in the air.

_____

At around 6 o'clock Patrick's stomach was a little fluttery and he kept readjusting his hat, not really paying attention to the emergency numbers she had programmed twice over into his phone and kept reminding him that she'd searched around and she doesn't want him in any 'mosh pits'. She said it with an air of slight disgust and and an overtone of concern for her son. 

Pete ended up in his own clothing again, but he was wearing a pair of Patrick's bright orange shoes because Patrick couldn't decide if he was going to wear them or the one's he had on, so Pete helped by wearing the other pair. 

Patrick's mom went on to give the same information to Pete and he repeated everything back to her, so she stopped worrying out loud and let them go. They took the tram downtown (Pete kept inappropriately talking to people sitting near them and telling them excitedly that he and Patrick were going to a show) and found the old brick building between the swanky night clubs and seedy cafes.

It was just after 7, so the band was still setting up. Between him and Pete, Patrick noted there were only a handful of people there, it a few of them were probably band members. Pete pulled Patrick to the stage and made him stand there and awkwardly converse with The Pinheads and a couple guys from Carousel Mind. Patrick was upset to find out the Ramones cover band did holocore covers of old Ramones songs.

The band was mostly set up and more people had actually shown up, so they started a bit early. Patrick couldn't quite decipher which song it was supposed to be, and the drummer was way off, but Pete still tried to start a mosh pit. 

More people started showing up, and Patrick tried to stay near Pete who kept disappearing randomly and Patrick was starting to consider calling one of the emergency numbers. The last band, the one Pete had just been shouting to him about, Carousel, came on stage. Pete disappeared again. 

He showed back up on top of an amp in the middle of a song and jumped into the crowd. Patrick had his eyes closed, pressed against the wall in the back of the room, truly afraid to see Pete hit the floor. 

"Patrick! Patrick did you see me, that was awesome! You should try it!" Patrick's eyes flew open to see Pete, hair mussed, closed disheveled Patrick thinks he should look sweaty and be breathing harsh, because even Patrick was doing that and he wasn't partaking in death-defying stunts, but robots don't do either of those things. "Come dance with me!"

Patrick kept trying to pull his arm away from Pete, but apparently Pete did have super strength (or Patrick was really weak). Patrick was pulled into the throng of people moving in no particular direction but seemingly to be going there fast and dangerously. 

Patrick didn't want to dance, he never danced, he was not even sure what to do besides flail. Pete though, Pete just pulled him close and moved his hips to the back beat of the bass line in the song. Patrick tried to back away or stand still so Pete would stop, but Pete just slid his arms around Patrick waist and presses himself closer. 

Patrick tried to move with him, keep a rhythm, it was hard though. Especially with the way Pete seemed to be humming against him, channeling the music so fluidly. Patrick was flushed and aroused (there's only so much a 17 year old male can take). Patrick gasps lightly, too quiet behind the noise of the room, when Pete's lips brush his ear. 

The song ends though, and Pete's eyes go wide, and he lets go of Patrick and mumbles about using the restroom. Which at first Patrick nods, but then asks, "What?" when he realises, oh yeah 'android'.

Patrick fights his way through the show goers and finds Pete crouched down in a dirty corner in the small bathroom. "Pete?"

Pete's head snaps up far too quickly and he stands, "Do you want to go home? I'm sorry I did that. You probably hate me and want me deactivated."

"I-..Pete...it's..." Pete stares expectantly. "Yeah, let's go home..I'm not-there's not reason to ..deactivate you, okay?"

Pete just nods and waits for Patrick at the door. They ride back home quietly, but when they walk back in the door and Patricia greets them Pete starts blabbering about his crazy time. Patrick's mom fixes him with a stern look as if to say, 'be more careful with your toys'. 

When asked how his time was, Patrick mumbled a 'fine' and followed Pete to his room. Pete was sitting on the edge of Patrick's bed, picking at the comforter. Patrick had started to notice Pete had little tics, like picking at fabric and gnawing on the tips of his fingers as though biting his nails. Patrick sits next to him without thinking much about it. 

"So." Patrick's word filled up the room until it was hard to breathe before Pete responded.

"You should really deactivate me. It's the best thing to do in these cases."

"What cases?" Patrick asked almost immediately, brow furrowing.

"I like you Patrick."

"Yeah, so...you were programmed to-"

"I like you more than I was programmed to." There was a stretch of quiet and Pete was doing a pretty good job at unravelling Patrick's comforter.

"Like...yo-" Patrick started, Pete sighed deeply before turning quickly. Cupping Patrick's cheeks in his hands and kissing Patrick slightly too hard. Patrick made a squeaky noise but tried to move his lips with Pete's. Pete went slow and sweet, like first kisses should be. he allowed himself to briefly nip at Patrick's pillowy bottom lip to see if it was really as soft as it looked (it was), before pulling away and dropping his hands.

"Like....I want to be able to kiss you like that again, and kiss you deeper, and let you touch me more and cuddle you at night so I can keep you warm and make sure you're safe when you sleep-"

"Pete." Pete shut up. "Pete, that's...it's not right. You're just...you probably have a wire crossed or a loose bolt or something, it's okay, we'll fix it-"

"I don't wanna be fixed if that's what you think." Patrick didn't reply, he just stood and went to shower away the show. When he came back to his room, Pete was on standby in the corner as though nothing had happened. 

Patrick sighed and kept tossing and turning, desperately pushing away memories of Pete's hips crashing like waves into his. Or Pete's lips pressed tightly against his, and the scrape of his teeth when he pulled away. Patrick wished he could delete tonight forever, or maybe deactivate himself.


	5. Chapter 5

When Patrick wakes up, Pete's still on standby. It's much too early on a Sunday morning, he's probably the only one awake. He lays in bed approximately thirty minutes before giving in and getting up. He sits at his laptop, watching it's screen glow and pointedly not thinking about how Pete's eyes glow occasionally or how Pete's technically standing about 4 feet away. 

He browses through his mail (spam still), he checks to see if the theater is having any other shows like last night, but he ends up closing the page after seeing pictures some journalist had taken from last night. The picture of him and Pete standing together by the back wall made it onto the website, and suddenly Patrick didn't like his laptop, so he slammed it shut. 

Pete didn't move, not a stir or a twitch. Patrick stood and took the remaining steps to stand in front of him, and slapped Pete hard across his cheek. It barely made Pete's head move, much less wake him up. It mostly just left Patrick with a stinging hand and anger scraping at his chest, so his balled his fist and punched Pete as hard as he cold muster. It did about as good as punching a very firm mattress and Patrick cursed at himself holding his bruising hand close to his chest, still glaring at Pete.

"Wake up! Why won't you fucking wake up, Pete?" Patrick doesn't mean to, but he pretty much yells this. To his surprise Pete's eyes flutter open, they're glowing a bright blue for a moment before flashing green, then returning to their prefabricated hazel. Pete slowly recognizes his surroundings, scanning the room and coming to a stop staring at Patrick. A bright smile breaks out on his face. 

"Good morning." Pete greets cheerily. Patrick just stands almost too close still and stares at him. Pete's smile falters, "Is something wrong?"

Patrick can't really help but laugh, "Yeah, things are still kind of wrong."

Pete's brow creases and he tilts his head, "What do you mean?"

"Last night." Patrick sighs waiting for Pete's reply, it doesn't happen. Pete just looks at Patrick almost blankly, so Patrick presses on, "The kiss thing."

"Kiss?" Pete's eyebrows lift up his forehead and Patrick's worried they'll disappear.

"Yeah..." Patrick wants to say more, say something meaningful, but 'yeah' will have to do.

"Patrick," Pete says quietly, an inflection of sadness in his voice, "Patrick I-"

"Don't, Pete. Just- don't. I don't want any apologies or-"

"Patrick, I don't know what you're talking about." Patrick notes how Pete looks like a small child lost at the mall, upset and confused and missing something.

"Last night, after the show, you kissed me." Pete's face screws up in thought and he shakes his head 'no'. "Yes, you did Pete! I know you did I remember it, it happened you can't just pretend you don't remember!"

"But I don't remember, Patrick!" Pete shouts back and it quiets Patrick. 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I must have....I must have deleted it. All of it, I don't remember going to a show." Patrick almost wants to force Pete to hook himself to the computer and prove it. Then Pete's lip wobbles and Patrick thinks he might just cry, but robots don't do that. There's a pang in Patrick's heart that tells him, he just might have to for Pete.

"You deleted-but, why would you- how did-?" Patrick doesn't know what to say.

"It's...you know, I think- you said I kissed you, right?" He barely waits for Patrick to nod, "Then, it's a good thing I forgot, and you should forget too."

Patrick suddenly feels the anger gnaw at his insides again, "No." He replies, more cooly than he'd expected to. "Maybe...maybe I said some really stupid things after what happened and I don't want you fixed either."

"That's okay Patrick, I don't remember what you said so-"

"That's what I'm saying! Why didn't you ask me if I wanted you to delete it? What if I want you to do the things you said and what if I want you to remember what it's like to kiss me, Pete? Because-because I remember how it felt, I remember what I felt and it was real, it's not just something you can fucking erase from a goddamned disc!"

"Patrick, watch your mouth." Patrick scoffed at Pete, who seemed to be in a shocked state. 

"No, fuck you. I'm not gonna let you forget what kissing me is like." Pete was less prepared than he'd admit when Patrick pressed him into the corner and presses his lips tightly to Pete's. They were chapped, but somehow soft and Pete wondered why he'd ever deleted this from his memory.

There was a shocked gasp from across the room and Patrick jumped away from Pete to see his mother standing in his doorway with her hand braced on his bedpost as though she might faint or fall over. Pete was suddenly reminded why he'd made himself forget last night, and Patrick suddenly wished he'd let it stay that way.

_____

Patricia had put Pete on manual standby, Patrick tried to protest but Pete quieted anything he might have said by doing as he was told almost instantly. Patrick's mother sat on his bed and patted next to her for him to come sit down, which he did however awkwardly. 

"Do you want to tell me what you and Pete were doing?" Patrick stared at the frayed part of his comforter, feeling like a five year old who drew on the wall in permanent marker.

"Mom, cut the crap, you know I was kissing him." He didn't look up to see his mother's more than likely affronted expression. He just hears he delayed sigh.

"Patrick, honey, you know..."

"I know the rules and how-"

"I was going to say, 'you know I'm just happy it wasn't some stranger that you're doing that with', but..."

"What?" Patrick chanced a glance to his mother who looked relatively calm.

"I mean, at your age, of course you'll be-"

"Mom." Patrick cut her off looking worried about how she might finish that phrase.

"I'm just trying to say, I'm not angry, but yes it's not legally right." 

"We didn't really do anything in the first place, though." Patrick said, pressing the issue, his mother just held her hands up.

"Just, don't let me catch you two again." Patrick tried not to notice the wink she punctuated her sentence with. She stood and left Patrick with a Pete on standby again, and a faint blush adhering to his cheeks.

He stood and walked over to Pete, saying "Wake up, Pete." and watching Pete's eyes do what they had earlier before turning sad.

"Where's Mom? Is she calling to have me deactivated?"

"No!" Patrick ducked his head and cleared his throat, "No...she's- we're not having you deactivated."

"But I kiss-"

"As far as you know I only ever kissed you." Patrick didn't mean for it to sound as venomous as it came out. 

"I feel guilty about it still." Patrick looked up, straight into Pete's bionic eyes.

"You feel guilty? You feel...How can you?"

"Patrick, I'm programmed wi-"

"I know what you're programmed with, Pete. I looked it up on my laptop; you show human emotions and observe to react properly in situations. Guilt is just something your circuits made a connection to from you doing something you've been built knowing was wrong."

"Isn't that how that usually works?" Patrick glared up at Pete, and it was difficult considering the small grin Pete was sporting.

"It's not the same thing, Pete. You're just metal and plastic and rubber and wires and gigabytes and-" Patrick suddenly had to choke back his words and the sting in the back of his throat and behind his eyes.

"But...I can still make the conclusions you would, I still love yo-"

"No, Pete. You don't love me." Patrick paused to take a deep breath and swallow back his emotions, "You can't love me, it's something that can't be copied onto a disc or sent in file."

"Patrick, when we kissed-"

"You don't love me Pete! You liked kissing me because you're programmed to make me happy, and yeah, I liked it but- Just do us a favor, and remember that I was happier without you."

Pete's eyes flickered around, and the quiet hum of system engines kicking on sounded as he tried to compose a meaningful response or a deep thought. 

"If you were happier without me, then why don't you want me deactivated?"

"Because I'm human, and I'm complicated like that." Pete's shoulders slumped. "Just, stay out of my way and if I want to talk to you I talk to you first, otherwise just do whatever else you were made to do." 

Patrick left Pete standing with a predetermined forlorn expression stuck to his Plasticine features, and goes to the lower level and watches mindless television until it's time for bed. He doesn't sleep well at all.

_________

The next morning, and on perhaps 4 hours of actual sleep, Patrick gets dressed and ready for school hours early. Considering covering Pete with a sheet while he's just standing there in the corner like you would a parrot to make it sleep. He just wants to leave as quickly as possible.

His mom offers breakfast but he just walks through the living room and out of the front door. He gets to school at least an hour early, not even all of the teachers are there, but he's told he can go practice in the music room.

He sits at the fake drum kit and wishes he had something real to take his aggression out on. He beats the rubber topped plastic caps and cymbals hard enough that they could break, he wishes they would, but they're not real, they're meant to last forever. He wishes he had his guitar, he could smash it and it'd be real. Nothing was real anymore, he didn't understand why it had to be this way.

Mr.Grohl, his band director, ended up finding him on the floor behind the overturned drum kit with red eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Mr.Grohl didn't say much, he just led Patrick to his back office where a real (and very expensive) drum kit sat. He let Patrick play as loud and as harshly as he needed to until first alert rang through the building and he had to leave for math class.

________

There was no jazz band practice that day, and Patrick didn't want to bother his band director again (though he wanted more than anything to feel the drums echo out and explode with each kick again). 

Patrick ended up going to the theater venue. There's actually a band playing even though it's barely 4pm, but they're not half bad. Of course, they're overly electronic, but they make it work. They finish the song and go on break, the singer addressing the invisible crowd of people loudly, "We're gonna take a break, but we'll be back for another song or two in a few!"

The brightly dressed lead singer turns to his band mates and whispers at them, and suddenly they all close their eyes, going to standby. This guy has a band of robots. Patrick can't help the small scoff. Before he can manage anything else the lead singer was suddenly standing right next to him, and he was tall, and familiar.

"Hey there short stuff!" Patrick glared, but the tall man just laughed. "You got a name? You look familiar."

"I don't feel comfortable giving you information about my person." This just made the other guy laugh louder.

"You a bro-bot?"

"What? No."

"You sound like one man." He adjusted the hoodie part of his all blue tracksuit, "The name's Saporta by the way, Diego Saporta. Yes I am the great-great-great-great-horrible-great-grand-nephew of the infamous Gabriel Saporta."

"For some reason that name's familiar."

"Damn skippy it is. So anyway, got a name, munchkin?"

Patrick glared up at the tall, brightly colored man, "It's Patrick."

"Sounds feisty." Diego wiggled his eyebrows while speaking and readjusting the neon orange headband he was sporting.

"Your entire band is made of androids." Patrick stated, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

"Not androids, bro-bots."

"Okay, I think I'm gonna go-"

"No, you can't, you haven't even seen my dick yet."

Patrick's eyes widened, "Yeah, I'm gonna go-" Diego burst out laughing loudly and obnoxiously, and it reminded him of Pete.

"I'm not gonna show you the Saporta sausage, don't worry....yet. Yeah, my band's all electric like my moves."

Patrick rolls his eyes before responding, "How'd you get a band of them together? I mean, like...did you put out adds or-"

"Custom made, all of 'em."

"How di-"

"I told you; great-great-great-great-great-great uhm...." Diego paused and counted out on fingers how many 'greats' he just spoke, "Uhh, about that many anyway, nephew of The Gabriel Eduardo Saporta."

"Right."

"I'm loaded." Diego quirked an eyebrow and smirked, winking at Patrick. Patrick cringed slightly, Diego had to be at least 10 years older than him. "You know, you play your cards right with me, and I could hook you up with a pretty little brobot of your own."

Patrick laughed out suddenly, "Already got one, and it's defective....or I am, I dunno."

"Oh, really now?"

"Yeah, he says he loves me but-" Diego gasped, and grabbed Patrick's arm, dragging him to the nearest table and sitting down.

"You just sit here and tell Dr.Diego all of your troubles. I'm a robomance physician, MD." Patrick raises a skeptical brow. "I have a certificate and everything...."

"Did you get it online?" Diego waved his hands dismissively.

"Unimportant, anyway....You got yourself a little lovebot?"

"Uhm...I guess." Diego sat raptly staring at Patrick behind his cyan blue glasses frames (no lenses). "It was just a birthday present-"

"Whoa, wait a second, how many years you holdin' onto anyway?"

"Eighteen." Patrick lies.

"Oh, c'mon, you look fifteen at the most." Patrick glared.

"I'm seventeen, okay, not fifteen." Diego just laughs again.

"Okay, okay 'seventeen' will be our compromise. Now, go on." 

Patrick rolls his eyes again and picks his train of thought back up, "Well, we were just supposed to be friends or something......I don't really have that many-"

"Oh really?"

"Or...any at all." Diego 'hmms' loudly, stroking his chin as though he had a beard, and he nods for Patrick to continue. "So, things kind of messed up and we kissed, but Pete had been saving files of me...like way too many before that so I tho-"

"Pete." Diego deadpans. "Not like...Pete Wentz?"

"Yeah?" Patrick looks uncertain and Diego looks fairly shocked.

"You're Patrick Stump!"

"Oh my god, I am." Patrick is shocked Diego knows his last name.

"No, no! Yes! I Mean, but....whoa.....can you sign my headband?" 

"Yes, No...What, why?"

"Oh! Oh yeah...um...nevermind, hasn't happened yet." 

"I'm confused?"

"The Cobra does that. Now, look....Pete's...Pete was very specially made."

"I'm kind of aware of that."

"I mean....really really special."

"Wait, so, you made him?"

"Ordered him, yeah."

"Right, so; he's convinced he's in love with me an-"

"Oh, he is." Diego said, propping his feet on the table.

"He's a robot, he can't love." Diego flung his feet back off the table to lean in close to Patrick, staring mesmerizingly into his eyes.

"Don't underestimate the power of love, Patrick." Then he stood and walked back to the stage and shouted 'wake up sluts'. The band came back to life with a new song and Diego ignored Patrick, reacting to the non-existent crowd. Patrick stood to leave re-adjusting his hat out of habit, he found a metal etched card that flashed 'Sluts! The Band' and when tilted to the side 'Robomance Doctor Diego Rivera Saporta, MD.'

Patrick looked to the stage to see Diego wink at him again, and Patrick shoved the card into his pocket and hurried to catch the Tram home.


	6. Chapter 6

When Patrick finally got back home he took note that his mom was missing, at the store or work, he was losing track of her schedule. He should ask Pete. Oh yeah, Pete.

Pete was in his room, sitting in his corner, his eyes were closed but he didn't seem to be on standby. Patrick watched him, he didn't move it, except for his eyes. Even behind their lids they looked like they were darting about.

"Pete?" Patrick spoke tentatively, not having forgotten about the day before. He almost wants to smile when Pete's eyes flick open and a grin sneaks onto Pete's face. But as soon as the thought comes it goes, along with Pete's expression. He then stands, though he keeps his head ducked down.

"Yes, Patrick?"

Patrick sighs before responding, "Where's Mom?"

"Your brother invited her over to his new apartment. I didn't know you had had a brother."

"Oh, yeah. Kevin's cool, but he's...well he's got a life of his own."

"I figured out as much." It's said in a tone that makes Patrick wince. Patrick didn't know what else to say as he sat on his bed, but he didn't want to stop talking to Pete. 

"You wanna sit up here with me?" Pete blinked slowly at Patrick, cocking his head to the side to express his confusion. Patrick just sighed and said, "Never mind."

The hour until his mom got home scraped by painfully. Patrick tried surfing on his laptop, and then playing guitar, but when Pete didn't jump up and ask him what he was looking at or to play a certain song, Patrick gave up and left to the living room. His mom seemed like she didn't want to ask any questions and left Patrick be. 

He ended up falling asleep on the couch, partially on purpose.

_________

The rest of the week goes much the same, other than the part where Pete starts staying out of Patrick's room most of the time. Patrick really didn't understand completely why he felt so lonely, seeing as how he used to spend a good chunk of his time in his room alone. He supposed it was because he had gotten so used to Pete, and at this point he wasn't sure what to do. He only knew he has to do something soon, because his mom was starting to ask and say things like, 

"How's Pete been lately?" "You seem lonely, you and Pete should go out and get ice cream." "The darndest thing happened, I walked into the kitchen and Pete was on standby. Must have forgot to go back to your room, right?"

The only thing Patrick could do was nod and mumble stupid things that barely made sense and try and escape from the situation. But lately Patrick found himself not wanting to lie, or feel so distant from Pete. He figured the only thing he could do, since Pete wasn't going to talk to him, was to force a conversation (which Patrick hates doing).

He found Pete sitting on the couch in the living room, and figured it was as good a time as any. Patrick sat down, with a couch cushion's space between them, but he still noticed how Pete's shoulder pushed up, stiffening, tensing. Patrick knew how he felt.

"Pete, I want to talk to you."

"Okay, Patrick." He stayed tense and staring straight ahead.

"I want you to listen, and I want you to look at me." Pete dropped his shoulders and perked up, turning his head towards Patrick. Patrick hated and while simultaneously thrilled by the power he knew he had over Pete. "Okay, so..."

Pete stared on, looking interestedly as Patrick. Patrick himself had to look away, biting his lower lip nervously. "So, I'm young, and stupid, right?"

"You aren't stupid, you're actually fairly above average at mental capacity for your age." Pete's words make Patrick's face screw up in amusement and he almost wanted to laugh, but then he pressed onward.

"Right, okay...but the way I've been acting is just..kind of really stupid. No arguing." Patrick glanced up to see Pete nod, Patrick wondered if he had a notepad open inside his circuit-board brain, writing down everything he said. "I just wish...I just want things to go back to the way they were before the show, hell maybe we can go to another show tomorrow and try again? But, don't like erase anything from your files or whatever, because...if you did, I'd have to kiss you again- Not that I don't want to, but I stand by what I said, and things could go wrong and-"

"Patrick-"

"I don't want you to get deactivated, and I don't want my mom or myself to go to jail, because that would suck and then I'd probably become someone's bitch and I keep having nightmares where someone named Bubba tells me how pretty my mouth is-"

"Patrick-" Pete tries again, a smile creeping at the corners of his lips.

"And he kinda looks like this dude I talked to the other day named Diego, except not, because dreams are weird. Anyway, I just want to be able to play songs for you and joke around like we had been, and if I can do that and I'm human then you'll have no problems, right?" 

"Patrick!"

"What?" Patrick asked, looking slightly shocked, as though that was the first time he'd heard Pete. Pete was smiling and had at some point scooted closer to Patrick. He bumped his shoulder into Patrick's making him smile back.

"It's cool. I can totally do that dude." Pete goes back to watching the show that's on the television, and Patrick casually makes comments on why it's so stupid. They bicker like they used to over differences in musical taste or who the better actor of a movie might be, and to Patrick it felt right again. The world's balance had shifted back comfortably, or at least it felt that way for the time being. 

Patrick fell asleep on the couch again that night, but he fell asleep leaning on Pete. Pete pretended to be on standby when Patrick's mom got home and draped a blanket over them both, kissing each of their foreheads before going to her own room. Pete slid more of the blanket onto Patrick after she'd gone, and carefully shifted them until he had his arms wrapped around Patrick, and was thoroughly snuggled in. Pete watched him sleep for a few hours before letting his standby takeover, for once just seeing a slide show of Patrick pictures instead of the nightmares.

_______

Patrick woke up before Pete had come out of standby to find his face presses against Pete's neck, and the rest of himself half in Pete's lap. He might have let himself stay there longer than he should have, trying to soak up the contented feeling before Pete moved again. Patrick heard the exact moment too, a small whirr sounding from within Pete's chest, and the quietest beep that Patrick hadn't previously noticed. He didn't see Pete's eyes shine and blink, but he knew that's what was happening. 

Pete didn't seem to notice that Patrick was awake however, when he pulled Patrick a bit closer and combed his fingers through his hair. Patrick really didn't want to pretend to wake up like he did, but...he did. Pete's arm around him loosening and the other dropping away from his head. 

Patrick pulled away slowly, yawning for show and stretching a bit. "Sorry I feel asleep on you last night." Pete just shrugged back and smiled.

"Do you want me to make you something to eat?" Patrick contemplated it, and shrugged, Pete took it as a yes. He made toast and set out cereals, it was modest and Patrick was grateful that he didn't make something more elaborate. Once Patrick's mother woke up to a five star layout and she and Patrick argued over the fact that Pete wasn't her chef and/or maid. Patrick ended up feeling bad about it later, but he still doesn't like his mother taking advantage of Pete's abilities.

"You know, there's another show tonight, Pete." Patrick tried the casual approach since he and Pete have gone back to normal (right?). He poured a bowel of whatever was closest and Pete reached out with the milk before Patrick could, pouring probably the perfect cupful in with the corn flakes. Patrick mumbled a quiet thank you and Pete nodded before answering.

"You want to go, or are you just testing this conversation out?" Patrick had to think about it, was he mentioning it just to see if Pete would go back on what he said or did he really want to go. He ended up shrugging.

"Carousel Mind is gonna be playing again." Pete perked up.

"Well, are you trying to make me want to go now? It's working dude." Patrick smiled slightly, shifting in his seat and pushing around the contents of his bowel, the smell of warmed bread and melting butter that's sitting on the plate next to the bowl is strong.

"Maybe, I mean....my mom probably wants us to leave the house again sometime this millennium." Pete laughs loudly, Patrick tries not to let his smile seem awkward.

"Are you waiting for me to make a decision for you, Patrick?"

"I guess? I don't really know, y'know?" Patrick shuffles his feet and sighs, "I guess...you can't really make one for me though, because of the way you're programmed so, I want to go and it's be nice not to stand in the corner alone."

"Then I'll come with you if you're going." Patrick sighed and Pete grinned before adding jokingly, "I wonder, whatever will I wear?"

Patrick smiles and shakes his head, "Well...maybe we can find you something else to wear, or like...go buy a new outfit? I've been saving up my money and I don't have anything to spend it on and...if you wanted-"

"I think I'd like to go shopping with you." Patrick wanted to bang his head against the table as Pete started laughing again, but then he's end up with a face full of soggy cereal. So he just laughed along.

__________

They'd made plans to stop by the small clothing shop that was a few miles away from Patrick's house so they'd have enough time to find something and get back to his house before the show. Patrick's mom seemed happy that Patrick wanted to get Pete something else to wear, saying something about how she thought she wouldn't have to see another black shirt after Patrick got through that phase where he wouldn't wear anything else but this stupid black shirt everyday when his mom tried to make him do his own laundry. She was so happy she even gave Patrick a twenty and winked.

They ended up walking down the crowded road, Pete happily bumping into people and laughing when they shout things back at him. He even tries skipping, but he doesn't really know how so he ends up tripping and almost falling. 

The inside of the clothing store was quiet and decorated sparsely. Patrick really hated most of the new fashions, but he knew this shop sold vintage remakes. Hoodies, stove pipe jeans, there was even a small section of parachute pants that made Pete fall over and convulse on the floor at the sight. 

Patrick finally got Pete to pick out something, after Pete kept insisting that Patrick should decide what he wants Pete to wear. The girl that was hovering by the register staring at them curiously all the while. Pete ended up with a bright red shirt, a hoodie with a gharish all-over print and a pair of black jeans.

"I don't need to try them on, I know exactly what sizes I am, unless you'd like me to?" Patrick paused and imagined standing in the close-quarters of a dressing room with Pete as he stripped, he cursed himself and shook the thoughts from his head, hat tempting to fall off. Pete smiled at his odd behavior.

"No, uhm...just, let's go..." Patrick reached into his pocket for the money his mom had given him and his own stash, but before he reached the counter Pete held something up in front of Patrick. It was a fedora, a nice one, deep gray with a braided black band. Patrick didn't really think of himself as a fedora person, he mostly stuck to trucker caps. "That's nice Pete."

"For you?" Pete had a hopeful smile on his face, and Patrick really has to say that justifies spending the extra money on hat he might not wear. 

________

 

To say that Pete looked good in his new outfit might be an insult, to Patrick at least. But Patrick was going to keep his and Pete's relationship normal if he had to die trying. He might do just that, die that is, as Pete leaned in to adjust his hat. He ended up working the fedora into his outfit, he felt too dressed up for rock show, but again Pete's goading made him do it.

The band was already playing when they showed up, the regular small crowd bobbing their heads along with the slow rhythmic electronic beats playing through the amps. Pete smiled and pulled Patrick into the crowd and Patrick held onto that hat with all his might. Pete didn't pull Patrick extra close this time, just enough so he wasn't swallowed into the madness and Pete's dancing was more or less lame flailing, though perfectly in time, and Patrick eventually gave in and danced along too. A few girls that had been standing near the wall were dancing together pretty near and giggling each time Pete broke out a dance move that involved shaking in place.

The songs change, and after the first one Patrick was soaked in sweat, but Pete just pulled him further to the stage until they hit the edge. Patrick smiled at Pete's wide grin and was thoroughly caught off guard when a pair of bright blue checker print clad legs bent down directly in front of him and Diego sang the chorus right at him, cupping his cheek while doing so and winking when he stood and walked to the other side of the stage. 

Patrick shook off the chills that being the center of that attention gave and watched amusedly as the keyboardist did the robot, he wondered if anyone else would get the irony. He turned and Pete was missing, Patrick's heart rate sped up as he pushed through the crowd. 

He looked around not seeing Pete against the wall anywhere, so he ran directly towards the bathrooms, only to find Pete pressed against the wall by one of the girls from earlier.

"Stop that." Patrick said, not knowing what he was supposed to feel or say or do or think right now. Pete immediately stopped kissing her, turning his head to Patrick, his face expressionless. The girl scoffed and rolled her eyes, pressing closer to Pete.

"Go away kid, you had your fun with him, it's my turn now." She turned Pete's head back towards her and started to kiss him again.

"Pete, stop." Pete stopped again, head snapping back towards Patrick.

"What the fuck, you're gonna let him boss you around?" The girl asked indignantly, shaking her bright purple hair out of her eyes and glaring at Patrick, still pressed against Pete. Pete, who remained emotionless, staring straight at Patrick. Patrick just turned and walked away, back into the main hall, back into the crowd. He had to distance himself from Pete, and he should have told Pete to get away from her, but then what? Then Pete will think Patrick cares if Pete likes someone else, and then they'll end up back in the mess he had to endure for the past week.

He ends up against a wall, in a corner, alone. Watching a new band on the stage, of course Diego decides to show back up. "Hey there chiquito, what's the big 10-4? Where's your loverbot?"

"He's letting some robo hussy molest him near the bathrooms." Diego frowned, it looked amusing, making his headband (a bright purple today) scrunch up his scraggly hair.

"That's not cool, why didn't you tell her who your man was?"

Patrick huffed loudly, loud enough to be heard over the music and the crowd, " He's not my man, he's just....Pete."

"Dude, technically you own him, own it." Diego had a hand on his hip and a sassy look on his face, Patrick was having a hard time being upset.

"It's...it's not like that." Diego groaned and leaned over on to Patrick shoulder, practically bent in half to see him eye to eye.

"Shortie, you're fuckin up the plan. THE PLAN! The very important one that is costing me a lot of time and money." He sighed before continuing, "You and him: that's the whole point of this, Pete and Patrick go together like....like me and pop blast blue headbands."

Patrick lent Diego a half smile, "It's not like that though...with Pete it's-"

"Patrick?" Pete was standing in front of them, glaring at Diego, and Patrick was kind of worried that Pete could shoot lasers at the moment. Diego just grinned and moved off of Patrick and walked away with a flourish. Pete continued to glare long after Diego's purple and orange striped hoodie had disappeared from view.

"Hey Pete." Pete's eyes darted away and glared in another direction, at the girl who'd had her tentacles wrapped around him just minutes ago. She made a face at him and rolled her eyes, turning back towards someone else, the bassist of Diego's band Patrick noted. She seemed pretty content trying to get into his circuit boards for tonight.

"Let's go home?" Patrick offered, adjusting and readjusting the brim of his hat. Pete snapped back, expression softening and he nodded. 

__________

 

It's only 10 when they get home, though Patricia is already asleep on the couch, some drama show playing on the screen in front of her closed eyes. Patrick ignores her and goes to his room , Pete following loyally.

"I'm sorry about Leasha." Pete said, sitting down on Patrick's bed, picking at the comforter while Patrick changed into a pair of pajama pants and an old loose shirt. 

"I don't care Pete, it's cool...whoever you wanna be with right? It's a free country." Patrick spoke in a defeated monotone as he walked over, ignoring Pete, and climbing into bed. Pete looked over at him sadly, and blinked into his night vision when Patrick switched the lights off. Pete stared at him, Patrick wasn't closing his eyes, just staring blankly towards the dark ceiling.

"You don't mean that." Pete finally replied, it was quiet and the emotions behind it controlled.

"Yeah I do." Patrick answered, sounding less and less like he actually meant it.

"You don't mean it, and wanna know why?" Patrick just sighed, "If you meant that I could have anyone I wanted I'd still have you."

"Pete." Patrick spoke his name in warning.

"No." Patrick blinked in the dark, confused as to the fact that Pete defied him supposedly. It was quiet again and the weight of Pete had left his bed, but suddenly Pete's voice was close and as he spoke Patrick suppressed the shiver waiting to run through his nerves. "No, you don't mean those words, do you?"

"Pete..I...I meant that...you...-" Patrick squeezed his eyes closed, trying to make his brain let him explain himself.

"I'm supposed to take things literally, and if you don't tell me that you were lying, I'm going to take you....literally." Patrick smirked at Pete's play on words, playing them over and over and not answering Pete. So he took the opportunity to lean in and kiss the side of Patrick's mouth softly. Patrick went rigid, and didn't kiss back, didn't breathe. But then, he didn't think either, and he turn his head to kiss back, to kiss deeper, Pete's tongue sliding with his.

Patrick noticed that Pete didn't produce saliva, it was strange, but Pete's mouth also wasn't exactly dry. it had a sweet minty taste to it as though Pete had just brushed his teeth and it moved perfectly in tandem with his own. Patrick barely noticed Pete shifting back onto the bed until he was on top of Patrick, pressing close, and Patrick gasped and pulled away.

"Pete stop." Patrick's familiar words rang into the darkness, and Pete stopped trying to kiss again, he stopped being on top of Patrick and even tried to stop being on the bed, until Patrick grabbed his shirt, pulling him back. "No, stay...but...just...I need time to process things Pete, I have to...rethink everything. You and I are....I don't know what we are, but it doesn't feel right when we're not."

Pete can see Patrick's sincere expression in black and green vision, and he moves the sheets until he's under them too, pulling Patrick against him. Pete's so happy his metaphorical heart should be beating out of his chest. Patrick splayed a hand over his chest just then, as though reading his mind. The mechanic whirr that Pete did possess picking up slightly. Pete held a hand over Patrick's and spoke quietly, "If I had one it'd be yours." 

Patrick sighed and laughed quietly, "Shut up, Pete." So Pete did, and he watched Patrick slowly drift off like he'd done many times before, but not quite this close and not quite so right. Pete even let himself enter standby that night, watching the Patrick slideshow again and smiling the entire time.


	7. Chapter 7

When Patrick's eyes flutter open the next morning, he was warm and groggy and not all together prepared to be a hair's length away from a grinning Pete. He jumped slightly in Pete's arms, but they tightened around Patrick and he couldn't help when he smiled back.

 

"Hey." Pete spoke softly, and Patrick swore he saw a small shutter behind the deep pupils and irises of Pete's eyes, but he couldn't be sure. Patrick just smiled brightly and leaned in to press his lips to Pete's. It was a warm, groggy kiss, and Patrick was sure he didn't taste that good first thing in the morning, but Pete didn't bother to mention it if he did.

 

Patrick turned his body into Pete and Pete's arms just tightened around him again. There was a stirring in the pit of Patrick's stomach and a quiet whirr from inside Pete's chest and it took everything Patrick could muster to pull away from Pete to breath again. Patrick lay tangled with Pete, breathless watching Pete smile calmly, looking too perfect. Patrick couldn't help leaning back in and taking Pete's lips again. 

 

Pete always kissed slow and sweet, letting Patrick catch on to how everything worked, not letting their tongues clash or teeth clack or correcting the angle if it did happen. Patrick head was spinning like a carousel, light-headed and spinning, Pete's hand holding lightly at the base of Patrick's neck, not letting him pull away this time. Everything felt hotter suddenly, like being shut inside a hotbox or outside during the middle of August. Patrick's senses were overloading as he bit down on Pete's lower lip, lungs burning for new oxygen. A shock, electric and sudden jolted Patrick to pull back and Pete to stutter as he let him go.

 

Patrick pulled in a deep breath, staring at Pete whom was lightly touching his mouth with a surprised expression. Pete finally smirked at Patrick, "You bit a wire."

 

Patrick flushed a darker red, adding to the light tinge already staining his cheeks, "I'm sorry, are you alright?"

 

Pete nodded slowly in response, still smiling and reaching out to brush Patrick's hair back, just to touch. And Patrick let him, and it was alright, great even, getting better int eh way Pete was leaning forward again, closing that distance. Patrick wanted to feel that shock again. 

 

The knock at the door stopped them short, Patrick's heart rate speeding far too fast already. He froze in his thoughts, Pete managed to open the door before Patrick could blink again, opening it to his mother standing at the door looking flustered. 

 

She didn't seem to notice the disheveled state of Patrick or his bed as she delivered the messages that, "A man named Donnie, or something, says he's got something important to tell you, " She paused looking towards Patrick, who kept his head down and his knees pulled up, trying to hide or disappear, " and it's not good so you better, uhh..grab the..oh god what did he say..?"

 

"Mom, it's okay, I think I got it, you can go now."

 

"Oh I know, but I can't figure out what he said, and it sounded cute and...God, what was it..?"

 

Patrick kept his eyes closed and tried to stop thinking about Pete who had come to sit down, pressed far too close at the moment to be comforting. He looked distant and there was a flicker behind his pupils, he was scanning or something and Patrick kind of wanted to hit him for it.

 

"Oh I remember; he sai-" The doorbell chimed and Patricia waved a hand in a, 'I'll tell you later' manner as she walked out to answer the door. Pete blinked and a look of confusion skimmed across his features before he turned and smiled at Patrick.

 

His smile faded slightly as Patrick turned a glare towards him. Patrick wanted to say something, or just stay quiet, and the latter seemed to be easier accomplished, barely a minute of it ticking by before his door was opened again and a manic Diego stomped in, Patricia looking frightened and worried. Patrick finally looked his mom in the eyes and they had a brief but silent conversation that concluded in her rolling her eyes and shutting the door behind her. Diego had made himself at home in his candy coated colors, sitting in Patrick's desk chair, head in his hands.

 

Patrick stood and walked to Diego, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder, "Uhm...not to be rude, but...how did you get my phone number and address?"

 

Diego looked up and shook his head, "Google, but that's not the point. The point is-" He stopped speaking abruptly and his gazed shifted to Pete. Pete was still sitting on the bed, eyes almost blank." Oh fuck...he already got the update....ay Dios mio."

 

Diego sprung from the chair and stood in front of Pete, Patrick was confused and still sleepy and wasn't sure what Diego was doing but he he stepped back Pete was shut off, and Patrick wanted lunge forward and kill Diego with his bare hands. Diego turned and noticed and held his hands up quickly, "He's not off! He's not off, broski. He's on a backlog standby mode okay, because okay listen...you might want to put pants on for this."

 

Patrick made a strangled noise and flushed dark under his collar, quickly turning to grab pants from his closet, throwing them on before turning back to Diego. Who was still looking grim, and Patrick didn't understand why and he'd never seen him look serious before. Actually, the last time he saw someone look like this his mother was telling Patrick that his favorite uncle was dying. It was one of those expressions you'd never want turned on you, and yet, here it was.

 

"Okay so...look, sit down too because I wasn't sitting when I heard it and I didn't have pants on either so it's really, just trust me." Patrick huffed and sat, waiting intently, nerves fraying more the longer he looked at Pete's seemingly lifeless form.

 

"There's been a recall." Patrick nodded slowly, waiting for Diego to continue. "A recall, like- Pete's being discontinued for unstable wiring and there's been a recall."

 

"So..that means-"

 

"I'm so sorry papito....It means Pete's gonna....They sent out an update that's like...a timer."

 

"Wait, I...a timer?" 

 

Diego just shakes his head again, expression turning from grave to anger and he kicks out suddenly, foot slamming into Patrick's desk. A slew of curses ring out along with phrases speaking of ruined plans.

 

"Dude, this isn't funny." Patrick finally manages to voice. "Like seriously, I don't know why you're doing this, but can you just turn him back on and leave us alone?"

 

"I'm not-" Diego knelt down near Patrick, practically eye level still. "A timer, meaning that...whether or not the factory comes and collects him soon, he will..shut down indefinitely."

 

Patrick shook his head and laughed lightly, but unsure, letting it trail off into the quiet, 

"Shit."

 

"Lo siento, bro."

 

"How long?"

 

"I- I don't know, but the news said that if you deny a worker access to him when they come there will be charges. God only knows what's going to happen to my band." Diego let out a quiet and misplaced laugh. "Uhm...I'm gonna turn him back on now okay, and he should have this information downloaded probably...."

 

He sighed and stood up, Patrick stayed staring at the wall, not properly processing anything. Diego's hand landed lightly on Patrick's shoulder, "I tried to get here sooner..I swear, I rushed...I'm not even wearing underwear right now...If I can find a way to help I'll let you know okay? But it's going to be okay...I'll figure this out..." Patrick swallowed thickly and nodded, promptly Diego to step towards Pete opening a panel behind his ear Patrick hadn't been aware of and the next thing he knew Pete's eyes were flashing and he was coming back to life. Patrick shivered at the thought that it might be the last time he gets to see that. Diego sighed and looked between Patrick and Pete one last time before leaving as quickly as he'd come.

________________

 

Patrick sat in the same position he was left as Pete booted, it took longer than he’d expected, or maybe it wasn’t so long. Time stretches when you want it to stop. Sitting in denial and contemplating what to do with the short time he’d been allotted left with Pete. It had barely been a month, it couldn’t be over. Patrick would hate to admit how attached he’d become to Pete, his mother wouldn’t understand. Or worse she would understand, and still there’d be nothing that could be done.

 

Pete finally blinked slowly and his gaze shifted from blank to Patrick. A smile setting it’s place on his lips. Patrick shifted himself and his gaze away from Pete, waiting for Pete to realize what’s going on like Diego said he would. Waiting for his mom to come rushing in and tell him the same thing he’d just heard, the same thing he can’t deal with. 

None of these things happened. Just an awkward silence filled by quiet breathing and silence on Pete’s part. After a few minutes Patrick started to wonder if Pete had already shut down. Patrick took a deep breath before chancing a gland at Pete. The android looked up immediately, frowning, “Did I do something wrong?”

 

Patrick shook his head ‘no’. “Then why are you over there when you could be...over here?”

 

Patrick opened his mouth but ended up closing it as he too the small trek to sit next to Pete again. Pete sat just as quiet and still as before, eventually prompting Patrick to ask, 

“What?”

 

“Whatever you want.” Pete’s voice was light and clear, and Patrick supposed he was blissfully unaware of his fate. It works for Patrick, he can play denial for a little while longer. Patrick bit his lip before looking to Pete before commanding.

 

“Give me your arm.” Patrick blinked at his own oddly arranged words, but Pete understood clear enough and held his arm out to Patrick. Just so suddenly everything felt like it had been, Patrick let his fingers trace along the pre-printed tattoo and the mechanically warmed skin-toned silicone. Pete leaned comfortably into Patrick’s side and Patrick closed his eyes to the warmth and weight of Pete. Letting himself just touch and feel, wanting things to be real or maybe just a dream. Patrick let his thoughts trail off as his fingers trailed along. Thinking that this could be some of his last moments with Pete, that it shouldn’t matter because Pete was just cogs and micro chips, but he pushed those away deciding to act instead of think. Pete had once told him him in passing that humans spend so much time in thought and Patrick supposed that’s how he let opportunities pass by without realising or doing anything about it.

 

“Pete.” A small hum sounded near his ear in recognition of being addressed. “I-uhm...I want to..I want to see your other tattoos again.” Patrick swallowed thickly, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping across his cheeks. Pete’s weight lifted away from him and Patrick was momentarily upset when Pete pulled his arm away until he pulled his (actually it was one of Patrick’s) shirt over his head, crawling behind Patrick to lay down on the bed before Patrick saw his shirt land nicely over the back of his desk chair. 

 

Patrick twisted around to find Pete on his stomach, smiling in a mischievous manner. “Did you mean you wanted to touch my other tattoo, or did I read you wrong?” a small crease of pre-programmed worry appeared between Pete’s eyes. Patrick just blushed a deeper shade of pink before shaking his head.

 

“No, that’s...this is fine, Pete.” Patrick looked right into Pete’s eyes, wanting to be able to read them like he got read. But if he wanted to read Pete, he should pick up the user’s manual. A small guffaw left Patrick’s lips and Pete just smiled softly, head rested sideways on his arms, waiting for Patrick's next move. So Patrick didn’t make him wait any longer before pressing his fingers first lightly along Pete’s shoulder blades, pressing harder to feel each individual aluminum cast vertebrae as his fingers danced lower to the ink colored pattern. He watched Pete’s expressions with concern and amusement, he kept expecting Pete to suddenly know he had an expiration date but Pete just smiled and let his eyes close. He looked peaceful and Patrick let himself relax and enjoy the feel of the all-too-real texture of syntho-skin. 

 

Patrick let his mind shift thoughts, wondering quietly what it tasted like, if it tasted like Pete’s mouth, but probably not because a minty back would be weird. Then he remembered just thinking doesn’t answer questions and thought no more as he bent down and licked along the low tattoo. He felt Pete shift beneath him and a quiet almost squeaky, 

“Patrick?” filled the silence.

 

Patrick let himself get over the upset that Pete didn’t really taste like much of anything before answering, “What?”

 

“Whatever you want.” Pete replied again.

 

“Turn over.” Patrick spoke with a slight tinge of authority, he wasn’t sure if he liked being in control still as he watched Pete quickly obey. Patrick bit his lip as he placed his palm flat against where a heartbeat should be but didn’t linger as a frown tugged on Pete’s mouth. Patrick let himself trace along would-be ribs and blink a few times before realising that Pete didn’t have a belly button. Patrick slid his ginger along where it should be and Pete started his quiet humming again, only this time Patrick noticed he wasn’t making the noise as much as it was coming from inside Pete, somewhere in his chest, possibly it was the same fan that would whir on occasion. Pete’s eyes were shut again and his expression was basically blank, nothing to decipher. 

 

Patrick took a deep breath before tracing lower, walking his fingers over the small hills of hipbones that made a quiet contrast of shadows against Pete’s flat stomach. The humming grew louder momentarily, and Patrick pulled his hand back and stared at Pete. Watched his eyes open and a lazy smile grace the room. “I like that.”

 

Patrick bit his lip again out of habit, watching Pete unabashedly watch the way Patrick’s teeth slowly slid across his soft lip, letting it pop back into place. Patrick took another slow breath before moving sidle into Pete’s lap, resting himself over Pete’s thighs. Patrick smirked as he noticed the shock Pete was expressing. “Do you like this?”

 

“I like you.” Pete responded without hesitation. Patrick smiled and leaned down to press their lips together as Pete slid his arms around Patrick’s waist, he trailed his fingers along Pete’s sides to make him hum. Pete arms tightened and Patrick's hips pushed forward.

Something in Pete shuddered and the humming changed pitch, Patrick pulled back to see what was wrong only to be forcefully drug back into the kiss, not that he minded. Patrick’s hips shifted forward again and something in his stomach tightened, struggling to turn his head and break the kiss. He managed a breathy, “Stop.”

 

And just like that Pete let go, stopped kissing, the humming dying down. Patrick sat up properly, staring at how perfect Pete still looked, wondering how messed up his hair must be or how sweaty he felt. Patrick ducked his head down, blushing. Even more so when he saw the rise in Pete’s jeans, eyes flickering back up. Pete just looked blank, waiting for a command and Patrick almost felt sick, like he was taking advantage of Pete. But Patrick pressed on, reaching down with shaking hands to pop the button on the jeans, as he was sliding the zipper lower a quiet hum started up again and Patrick bit his lip. He couldn’t shake the way it felt like playing with a doll, like Pete wasn’t even real at all. 

 

“You do something.” Patrick mumbled to the quiet, and Pete sat up, keeping Patrick in his lap. Pete tilted Patrick’s chin up to look at him properly and show off his smile. Patrick swallowed thickly in his dry throat, unable to shift his gaze from Pete’s, “Do something else.”

 

Pete laughed lightly and tugged Patrick’s shirt up until it caught under his arms, “Off?”

 

Patrick took a deep breath and nodded raising his arms, waiting for Pete to remove the shirt completely. It’s the last thing Patrick wanted but if it meant that Pete was doing something he preferred, then that was fine by Patrick. He needed to be able to pretend. 

Patrick kept his eyes closed even after the material had been pulled free. He lowered his arms, nervous, until he felt Pete nuzzle his neck and mumble, “Pretty.”

 

His blush crept further at Pete’s words, shivering as he felt Pete mouth over his neck. There was a knock at Patrick’s door an felt Pete freeze just as he had.

 

“Mom?” Patrick winced at how his voice squeaked and broke off the end of the simple word.

 

Patricia answered, muffled by the door, “I was going to wait for you to come and tell me what that man was doing here but I’m late for work. I’m expecting a good explanation when I get back.” Patrick nodded before realizing his mother couldn’t see.

 

“Okay, Mom!” He managed back, ending up surprised as Pete decided to shift beneath him.

 

“Well..alright then!” Patricia mock-yelled back, “Are you okay?”

 

“Fine, mom just go.” Patrick held his breath waiting to hear his mom walk away and hoping that Pete wouldn’t move against him again, not yet at least. He finally heard a huff and almost a full minute after the front door opening and closing. Patrick shifted his gaze away from the door to find Pete avidly staring.

 

Patrick didn’t say anything to Pete’s expression, not audibly, but Pete started touching him. Slow and soft, running the pads of his fingers lightly along Patrick’s lips, delighting in the way each quick puff of breath Patrick exhaled ghosted along his sensory connections. 

“Is this okay?”

 

Patrick’s eyes flutter open, he hadn’t even noticed them slip shut, but he nodded to Pete. Pete smiled back and continued to dance his fingers along Patrick’s neck and shoulders, stopping and processing. Their eyes caught each other’s gaze and Pete shifted against Patrick again. Patrick gasped, the sensation egged on by seeing Pete’s quiet reaction of quiet shock. 

 

Pete slipped his hands to hold at Patrick’s soft hips before pushing his own back up. Patrick moaned quietly, eyes closing again, a small smirk sliding into place as he heard the quiet humming again. Patrick kept his eyes closed, waiting for the next move.

 

A sudden woosh of air and Patrick flailed thinking he was falling, opening his eyes to find himself pinned beneath Pete, still safely on the bed. Patrick blinked, eyes wide to Pete’s casual smile, “How di-”

 

Pete laughed lightly and pushed his hips against Patrick’s. The humming in Pete’s chest grew louder for a moment as Patrick moaned again, writhing beneath him. “Do you not like this position? It’s more dynamically favorable for us.”

 

Patrick pulled in a deep breath and looked directly at Pete, smiling, “Stop talking and just...-”

 

“It would also work better if we took our pants off, hypothetically.”

 

“Jesus..okay...”

 

“Okay?” Pete asked back.

 

“Okay.” Patrick replied, slightly confused as to why he was repeating himself until he felt a tugging and Looked down in time to see his recently donned jeans be slid off. Patrick couldn’t fight the blushing anymore, not while Pete stayed kneeling over him, eyes raking over Patrick’s body. He wanted to cover up again, but Pete would probably compliment him again and make it worse. There was a lull in action until Patrick got the nerve to reach out with shaking hands and open Pete’s jeans, his hands eventually got taken over by Pete’s swift and precise ones and just as soon as Pete had pulled away he was back, pressed firmly against Patrick.

 

Pete’s head tilted to press his mouth to Patrick’s neck again, a soft suction building up just at the crease of Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick let his head lean away to give Pete room, insistently pushing his hips up, trying to meet Pete’s again. Pete make a quiet thoughtful noise and brought his hips crashing against Patrick’s finally, causing Patrick to shudder and reach up to Pete’s hips. Gripping tightly for something to hold onto. The contact spurned Pete to thrust against Patrick again, wanting to hear every noise he could make, eventually pulling away from Patrick’s next to watch his expressions too. Pete liked the way he felt sliding against Patrick, but decided it wasn’t probably as intense as it was for Patrick. It didn’t bother him, because he was making Patrick feel the intensity and he looked, “So pretty.”

 

Pete watched as Patrick‘s eyes flickered open at his words, the crimson of his complexion darkening in turn. Pete kept his hips in perfect time to the beat of a song he’d heard on the radio, he didn’t know the name, but he’d tried several rhythms and this one made Patrick make the most face and the best noises, so he stuck with it. 

 

Pete had to duck his head down again, pressing his lips against Patrick’s bite swollen ones, biting them lightly himself. His fans were working in overtime, his drivers overheating, but he pressed on. He didn’t ever want Patrick to stop being this way. Pete snapped his hips forward faster, his whole frame starting to vibrate with the effort and Patrick gasped beneath him, shuddering violently and whimpering, “Petepetepete.” 

 

Pete stopped suddenly, worrying and looking down at Patrick’s mostly blank expression. Watching a smile curl into place and Pete couldn’t stop himself from taking 5 frames per second photos as Patrick’s eyes fluttered open. “Did I hurt you? Did I shock you again?”

Patrick bit his lip, a deep flush already set in place as his shook his head, “No...you didn’t hu-..I just...uhm” Patrick’s gazed shifted around helplessly before looking down between them.

 

“Oh, you achieved an orgasm. Awesome.” Pete grinned even as Patrick slugged his shoulder. Everything was perfect in a strange way, until something about Pete twitched. A split second and barely noticeable, only, Patrick did notice. He swallowed thickly before asking.

 

“Are you alright?” Pete smiled and nodded.

 

“Of course...” Patrick tried to keep his mood light, letting himself get pulled down into the denial that everything was perfect. He sighed and bit his lip, looking up at Pete.

“Should I...are you-um...” He gestured down between Pete and himself. Pete tilted his head to the side.

 

“Do you want me to clean you up?” Patrick flushed for the umpteenth time that day and shook his head no.

"No, I meant...do you want me to-"

"Oh, no...unless that's what you want?" Patrick shrugged and didn't meet Pete's gaze. He was caught off guard as Pete shifted and lay next to him, leaning forward to kiss Patrick's cheek. He made sure to stay close, hand trailing over Patrick's chest, "Is this okay?"

Patrick smiled and nodded, and wished that he could say it was, "Perfect." But all he could do was imagine the slow tick, tick, tick of a timer counting down.


	8. Chapter 8

When Patrick finally made to move from Pete, the sun was setting. Pete easily moved away even as he assured Patrick he'd rather stay. Patrick smiled sadly and checked his messages, none new. His mother would be coming home soon.

"Patrick?" Patrick went back to the bed and sat next to Pete, "Patrick? Did I do something wrong?"

"No...nothing." And Pete just kept smiling as Patrick's heart cracked just a bit more. Pete's eyes flickered, Patrick's messenger beeped. He got up and checked to see, it was from Diego. He paused to dwell just a moment on how Diego got his messenger code, but then read on, 'still no news, government already took my band, harsh break up so sorry papito'.

Patrick's heart was beating in his throat, he heard someone open the front door.

"Pete, get in the closet."

"What? is this a euphemism " Patrick huffed and pulled at Pete, he heard the lift working to bring someone up to the second level.

"No, just go!" He hurriedly whispered, and Pete finally followed command. "And be quiet." Patrick added.

His door opened and he took one last deep breath.

"Patrick, is everything alright? Where's Pete? I came home as quickly as I could when I hea- Oh honey, did..did they already come?"

His mother looked distraught, and he shook his head 'no' still shocked and pointed at his wardrobe door. She walked over and opened it to find a happy but confused looking Pete standing between shirts and pants waving. She covered her smile with a hand, and looked as though she'd cry.

"Mom....they're coming soon....and I-I won't let them take Pete."

Pete's expression flickered and changed over an array of emotions. "What do you mean 'they', and take me?"

"He doesn't know?" Patrick's mother asked, looking stern.

"No...Diego came by and sai-"

"Diego? Was that the brightly dressed man from earlier? What did he-"

"Mom!" Patrick's mom quieted and Patrick continued, "He told me everything you've probably heard-"

"I haven't heard a thing, some men came in and took almost all of our service bots at the office and I was told there was a total recall of all androids in this sector and-"

"Okay, mom look...we don't have much time...They're coming soon and-"

"Hey! What's going on?" Pete spoke up, looking more frightened than Patrick thought was emotionally expressively possible.

There was a knock at the door. Patrick's mom let out a surprised noise and shut the closet door on Pete and ran out of the room to get the door. Patrick followed, but not completely. He saw the suited men, and heard hushed voices. He saw them attempt to come in and Patricia stop them saying, "I told you, we knew he was defective! I sent him out to get serviced, if you want him go here." 

She proceded to record an address on their signature pad and wished them the best of luck before closing the door and locking it. Patrick had never seen his mother look so bad ass.

When Patrick turned around Pete was there and his heart skipped. "Tell me what's hap-pening to me-e-e-e." Pete shuddered and glitched as he spoke. Patrick gasped and pulled him back to his room, his mother following as Patrick explained everything he was told.

________________

They sat in silence for countless minutes, Pete occasionally twitching. Patrick felt terrible and he was scared. He felt like Pete was scared too, but that could only be his own illusion, right? He told himself this anyway.

His messenger beeped, it was Diego asking if they'd got Pete. He didn't reply. 

The silence moved on and his mother left the room. There was another knock at the door.

When his mother opened it Diego rushed in looking frantic, calling for Patrick. He stopped himself short, took a couple steps back and took Patricia's hand bending down to kiss it and smile, and introduce himself before returning to his previous state of panic, "Patrick!"

Patrick quickly came to his shocked mother's side, Pete wavering behind them.

"Patrick! Patrick, Patrick, my dearest Patrick horrible news!"

"Yeah?" Patrick asked, not having ever heard anyone say his name that many times in a row.

"Okay, you guys are on The List."

"The list?" Patricia asked. Diego turned his attention back to her.

"Sorry senorita, okay uh....The List is the government's list of people who refused to turn their bots in....they're calling torture to find the location of the bots and imprisonment for life on this stuff okay...I don't get it-"

"How do you know this?" 

"I know people alright....anyway, They're taking anyone who conceals one of the defecto-bots alright and...and I was skimming the list, I have a LOT of andro-friends, and I saw Stump on the list."

"There has to be more than one 'Stump' who owns a bot though right?" Patrick asked nervously. Diego shook his head.

"I checked, I really did I am so sorry...but good news!" Diego smiled then and pulled out two passes. Patrick took them and looked one over, 'Time Pass: We'll Take You Back' then it shifted to a departure time, the words 'One Way' flashing in red underneath.

"Diego...."

"No, look, it's a gift really."

"No, Diego...It's-"

"Patrick go pack."

"But mom." She looked at him and then turned back to Diego, "Thank you...whomever you are."

"Hold on, why are theses bots so important?" Diego's eyes shifted.

"Okay....so I lied a little bit...It's not just....it's not all the bots it's the ones I helped commission and a few other people's bots....They've either got encrypted data, which there really is a recall on some forms of service bots....but-"

"But?"

"I time travel a lot, I appreciate the past and I-"

"Spit it out!"

Diego huffed, "I may have created some bots with stolen technology...specifically Pete Wentz there."

"Me?"

"Yeah you....to get you just right I had-I needed something more real than those other bots and so...I had a friend get me these v-chips and then all hell broke loose....They can't trace it to me but you guys....I'm so sorry, I just wanted....You can't have a Patrick without a Pete."

"What?" There was banging at the door.

"Patrick we have to leave now, there's no time let's go." 

"I'll stall!" Diego said as Patrick ran with his mother towards the back entrance, grabbing Pete's hand as he did so, ignoring there only being two passes.

 

He heard Diego shouting in Spanish as they closed the back door and got into his mom's car, passes gripped tightly in hand. They drove quickly, ignoring any sirens they heard on the way.

Patrick's grip never loosened and Pete didn't bother to say a word.

_______________

They reach the Time Pass facility and Patrick's close to tears, Pete's whirring has slowed but he still smiles at Patrick and brushes a thumb over his cheek. 

Patrick mother tells Patrick that she's going to go get them checked in, he has 2 minutes.

2 minutes, and she shuts the door, the time ticks, Pete ticks. 

"I don't want to go."

"I love you...."

"Pete-"

"Don't worry Patrick, like Diego said....There can't be a Patrick without a Pete." Pete leaned in and pecked Patrick's lips, there was no spark, there was no feeling of calm, just a kiss, it could have just as well been a thimble.

Patrick let the tears fall silently as Pete pulled away and his eyes lit up blue one last time, and if Patrick looked close enough he could see himself flashing over and over. Pete's memory was being wiped, and in less than a minute he would be shut down and a beacon for the government to pick up probably.

Patrick ran from the car, he couldn't look back. He ran until he was inside and found his mother, and he wiped his eyes. 

"Last call for Summer of 2002!" Patrick looked at his mother and she put an arm around his shoulder, smiling sadly as they walked to the room. He didn't think of his other relatives still here, he was sure they're be fine or maybe even come visit sometime. He watched his mother step through the gateway portal first, he took a deep breath and bravely followed as he heard sirens behind him. Then, nothing.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Months Later (or 1,000 years earlier, depending on how you look at it)

Patrick's still settling into the year 2002. He and his mother changed their last names slightly just in case any government agent decided to time hop back to them, as unlikely as it was. They had fake back stories and forged memories for anyone who asked, but mostly kept to themselves. 

Patrick got a job at a Border's to pass time and save up for a new guitar, having left his last one behind (having left a lot behind). He was doing rather alright though, he had good grades, he was in the jazz band in this century as well, he even managed to gain a couple of real friends. 

He was on break at work after having had an argument with someone in the Science Fiction section again about robots and being told he needed to go calm down; so naturally he was wandering the music section when he overheard a conversation about Neurosis. He couldn't help but butt into that as well.

Half an hour later he was going back to work with a guy named Joe's phone number who said he was starting a band. He just hoped they wanted a drummer.


End file.
